Jeff The Killer VS Michael Myers
by ABoyNamedAlex
Summary: Jeff the Killer has found his way into the little town of Haddonfield. He attacks a large and muscular man, but is in for a big surprise. Has Jeff the Killer met his match? Will the infamous serial killer Michael Myers meet his end?
1. Prolauge

The night was cold. The date was October 29th. The wind was blowing hard that night in Haddonfield. Michael Myers was standing on the balcony of his old house. He had murdered his mother and his step-father here. He had killed his older sister brutally as well, but had left his youngest sister alive. Why, nobody knew. A lot of people believed not even Myers himself knew. Of course, Michael never really thought about such complicated things. His mind was only focused on who would be next, who would be the next victim of his never ending rage. He looked down and saw two teens walking along. Both of them stopped in front of his old house and looked around. One was a boy, the other was a girl. They were a young couple. The boy pulled at the girls hand, pulling her through the front gates of the Myers home. She did not want to follow, but went along anyway. They went through a broken window and crept into the house. Michael turned around on the balcony and walked in as well. Fresh meat had arrived…..

Jeff walked through the abandoned highway. In one hand was a bottle of Jim Bean, in the other was sharp kitchen knife. He belched from time to time as he stumbled along. When the bottle of liquor was empty, Jeff tossed it aside, where it shattered on the road. Jeff's eyes were trained forward, unblinking and cold. He kept stumbling along the way, until he saw a sign. It read, "Haddonfield, A Place to be Calm and Relaxed". Jeff looked at the words for a second, his drunkenness making it hard to read, but it was making the feeling stronger.

"H-Haddonfield? What a stupid fucking name. O-Oh well, this place should do nicely." Jeff said. The words were slurred and hiccups began interrupting his speech.

Jeff began his drunken exodus again. The feeling was growing stronger and stronger. It was like a beast screaming inside of him, crying out for something to quench its thirst. Tonight, it was in the mood for blood….


	2. Chapter 1: Arrival of a New Psycho

The murder seemed pretty simplistic. Young couple found dead in an old house, cause of death being multiple stab wounds to the body. It all would seem easy to write off to any other normal cop, but the fact that this gruesome killing took place in the old Myers home made it special for Sheriff Leigh Brackett.

"Do you think this is His work?" one of the cops asked Brackett.

"I really wish I could say it wasn't." Brackett replied.

"Why don't you go home, Sheriff. I'm sure your daughter is missing you." the cop said.

"I think I will. It has been a long day. Get a crew in here and clean this up. Let's try to keep this on the down low too. This town has been oblivious to these killings and we are beginning to run out of people to blame it on. People will start bringing up Michael again. And with it being this close to Halloween, this is just not what the town needs." Brackett explained.

"Okay, I'll get a crew in here." the cop said, walking off.

Brackett took one last look at the two mangled corpses of the teens and walked out of the room. It had been a long day.

Sasha Walters was 17 and was driving home from a date with her boyfriend, though you could not really call it that. The two had met up, had sex, spent literally twenty minutes reflecting on it, and parted ways. Sasha was worried of what she was becoming. Was she just some whore for her boyfriend, John? Did he still love her? Was their relationship going to go anywhere? These questions spun in her head as she pulled into the driveway of her house.

As Sasha got out of the car, something did not feel right. There were no lights on in the house and it was only 10:30 pm. Her parents would still be up at this time, and curfew was not till 11.

Things got even more out of the ordinary when Sasha discovered that the door was unlocked. Even if she was out on a "date" with her boyfriend, her parents would lock the door. What she did not realize was that the lock on the front door had been broken, not left unlocked.

Sasha called out for her parents and only heard one thing. The fast scurrying of footsteps and the shattering of a window. Sasha heard this and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She found the large window at the end of the upstairs hallway broken. She looked out and saw a figure sprinting off into the distance. She could not see what it looked like, but she only saw a glimpse of white before it vanished.

Turning away from the window, Sasha saw her parents bedroom door was slightly open. She slowly walked towards it, her heart beginning to thump in her ears. She gripped the door knob and it felt warm, like it was just opened. She opened the door and nearly dropped dead.

Her father was pinned to the wall, kitchen knives sticking from his hands. A large smile was painted on his face in red. Closer examination revealed that the smile was not painted, but carved into his face. His chest had been ripped open and blood was everywhere.

Sasha's mother was similarly brutalized, her corpse laying on the floor in a pool of blood, the same smile carved into her cheeks. Sasha was speechless. She stepped backwards until her back hit a wall. She looked down at her hand, and she realized why the door knob was warm. Her hand had blood on it, and it was fresh.

Sasha let out a scream…

Sheriff Brackett was half way home. Half way from finishing his day and being able to see his beautiful daughter again. Then he got a call.

"Oh hell, what could this be." He said, picking up his phone. "Sheriff Brackett speaking."

"Sheriff, we just got a 911 call about another murder, we dispatched a team, and, well you have to see it for yourself." A distressed woman's voice said.

The sheriff said he would be over as soon as he could. He stopped, did a three point turn, and headed in the direction of the call.

The scene was morbid. Blood could be smelled from anywhere in the house. It was already beginning to soak through the upstairs floor and leak through the downstairs ceiling. Cops had already taped off the area, and some onlookers had gathered trying to figure out what was going on.

"Okay, what have we got here?" Brackett said arriving on the scene.

"Two murders, only one survivor." A young male cop said, running up next to him.

"Where is the survivor?" Brackett asked.

"On the steps sir. We think you should talk to her." The cop said.

Brackett walked up the steps of the house. Sasha was sitting in a rocking chair with a blanket draped around her. Brackett took a seat next to her.

"Hello, my name is Sheriff Brackett. I need you to tell me who you are and what happened here." He said, talking to her like she was a frightened child.

"M-My name i-is Sasha W-Walters. I c-came home from a date with m-my boyfriend J-John Mathis. The front d-d-door was bashed in and all the l-lights were off. I c-called out for my parents and I heard g-glass break upstairs. I r-ran up stairs and saw a person running away. They l-looked like they were wearing something white, like a s-shirt or something. I walked to my parents room and they were d-d-d-dead." Sasha told Brackett through tears and sniffs.

"I see." Brackett said, making a mental note of the testimony. "Okay, I need you to repeat it to one of my friends here. He is going to take you back to the station. You will be safe there." Brackett continued.

A cop walked up to her and led her to a car. It drove off out of sight. Brackett put a hand over his mouth, thinking about something.

"What's up, Sheriff?" a middle aged cop with brown hair said, joining him.

"Oh, hey Ben. I was just thinking about something." Brackett replied.

"What about?" Ben asked.

"It's this killing." Brackett replied, staring off into space.

"Do you think it was Myers?" Ben asked.

"No, the girl said she saw someone wearing white. Michael doesn't wear white, save for the mask." Brackett explained.

"Well, there is something majorly different about these two murders." Ben said. "Smiles were carved into the victims cheeks. None of Michael's killings are like that." The cop explained.

"So you think we have a second psycho in town?" Brackett asked.

"That is what I would guess. Do you want me to check neighboring towns for similar events?" Ben asked.

"Yes, please."

Ben said he would get right on it and walked off to his car. Sheriff Brackett looked up into the sky. His job had just been made more difficult.


	3. Chapter 2: Psychos Meet Eventually

The pub was crowded that night. Many men had come here after work to drink their worries away, some men came to drink the fact that they had bills to pay away. Some men just came here to drink. One man, on the other hand, had not let a drop of alcohol touch his lips.

He had been sitting there for a long time. The bartender ignored him because there was so many people ordering drinks. He just sat there with his hood up, looking down at the bar. Finally the bartender approached him.

"Hey, sorry if I haven't gotten to you, but this place is swamped. What can I get ya?" The man asked.

At first the hooded man did not speak. Then he spoke, and a shiver went down the bartenders spine.

"Just a beer would be nice." Jeff said, not bothering to look up.

"Any preference?" The bartender asked, a little shaky.

"Not really. Anything will do. Feel free to surprise me if you wish." Jeff replied, almost in a doped tone.

The bartender walked off to grab Jeff a beer. Jeff still sat there, his mind elsewhere. He was always like this after a kill. Always doped, always thirsty. The feeling of blankness and emptiness was stronger the more angry he let the feeling get. Jeff didn't like it when he felt empty, because it was the only time he felt weak and vulnerable.

"Here ya are. Enjoy." The bartender said, returning with the beer.

Jeff thanked the man and began drinking the beer. He was halfway through with it when he was joined by a man in a police uniform. Jeff froze up, keeping the beer gripped with one hand and one hand went to his hoodie pocket where he kept his knife.

The cop ordered a beer and the bartender gave it to him free of charge.

"No need, Sheriff. You do a good job of protecting this town. It's on the house tonight."

Sheriff Brackett took a sip from the beer and looked to his left, where a young man in a white hoodie once was, but was gone. The beer glass, half empty, was still sitting there.

"Wasn't there a guy there just a second ago?" Brackett asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. Must have left."

Jeff was outside the bar. His hood was still up and he was on his hands and knees. He was panting. This was the first time in a long time that Jeff was afraid.

"S-Shit. I have to be more careful." Jeff told himself.

He stood up, taking a quick look around. He felt a large jab at the back of his head. For a second he thought it was the feeling again, but the feeling did not hurt physically.

Jeff fell forward. He landed on his hands and knees, but a sudden burst of adrenaline made him shoot forward and get back up. He pulled out his knife and whipped around on his attacker.

The man was more than six feet tall, it was almost inhuman. He was dressed in dark blue coveralls. His face was completely white and he had brown hair. His eyes were solid black.

"Who the fuck?" Jeff asked the behemoth of a man.

The man did not say anything. He pulled out a very large knife the dwarfed Jeffs.

"Oh."

Jeff launched himself at his attacker. He rammed into him and quickly stabbed him three times in the stomach. He leaped back after the third strike. He saw his target bend over, but straighten back up. The man's face had not changed. No expression at all. Then he realized something. This man was wearing a mask.

Jeff pulled his hood down, staring at his enemy with the same unblinking stare his victims would see. Michael cocked his head to the side. He had never seen someone with such a face. Michael took a step forward, Jeff slashed at his chest. The blade barely broke the skin. Michael grabbed Jeff by the hood and lifted him up off the ground. Jeff stabbed Michael in the arm. Michael dropped Jeff, giving him time to leap back.

Michael shook off the wound and began advancing again. This time he grabbed Jeff by the neck and lifted him up. He squeezed Jeff's throat. Jeff began to sputter and gasp, trying to keep air in his lungs. Michael walked over to a nearby car and smashed the back of Jeff's head into the hood. Michael let go and Jeff hit the ground. He wasn't moving. Michael walked away, satisfied with his most recent murder.

Dr. Loomis walked into the bookstore in Haddonfield. He needed a new book to read. He had began reading more and more as he grew older. It was the only way to keep his mind off of the horrible things he had seen.

Dr. Loomis had seen Michael Myers technically grow up. He had known Myers the most as he grew, and sometimes blamed himself for what Michael had become. When news had come that Michael had escaped, he headed back to Haddonfield. That would be the only place he would have went to. He had tried to stop Michael, he even shot him. But that had not stopped the monster that Michael had become.

Loomis sighed, looking over the back of a novel written by a new author that was trying to make his name known. The book was something about a boy in a new world. Loomis couldn't concentrate on that, his mind was elsewhere. Haddonfield was bringing back memories, none of them good. He put the book under his arm, if anything he could read it just to see how bad it was.

Loomis paid for the book and walked out, and quickly ran into someone he knew. Sheriff Brackett.

"Mr. Brackett. It is really good to see you again." Loomis said, extending his hand.

"Well, well, well. Doctor Loomis. Been a while." Bracket said, returning the handshake.

"So how have been things?" Loomis asked.

"Well, there is something I really don't want to tell you, but you of all people deserve know. Michael is making a comeback. His killings are becoming more and more frequent. This time recently it was a young couple in his old house." Brackett explained.

"Damn." Loomis said, his eyes finding new interest in the sidewalk.

"And there's more. We suspect there is a new killer in town." Brackett added.

"How do you know?" Loomis asked.

"The cause of death is significantly different. This knew killer also seems to, how can I put this, abuse the bodies." Brackett said.

"Abuse? What do you mean?" Loomis asked, intrigued.

"He carves smiles into the cheeks of his victims." Brackett said, sickened by his own words.

Loomis had a look of surprise on his face. This was not something that he had wanted to hear, but he had. He sighed and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Brackett asked.

"I'm going to do my own personal research, I'm going to help you find these two."


	4. Chapter 3: Research for Both Parties

Ben was sitting at a computer at a nearby library. He had been working late last night, and was back at the library the next morning. He had not found much the first night, it was hard enough to find information from neighboring towns when Haddonfield was so isolated. Finally he came across something.

A string of murders had been committed around the entire state! Each of the killings were very similar. Smiles were carved into the cheeks of the victims, and each of the victims were gutted, stabbed to death, or had their stomachs ripped out by what looked like human hands. Nobody had seen the killer, so there was no description. There had been no fingerprints or other DNA, so figuring out what that was was impossible to.

Ben was just about to give up when he found something that peaked his interest. He had searched for "smiles carved into cheeks of victims" in police databases at the station, but had sunk low enough to type it in on Google. He found a link to a website that took him to a page that was mostly black and had a story on it. He also saw the frightening picture of a young man with smiles carved into his cheeks and large black circles around his eyes. The story was simply called, "Jeff the Killer".

"Dear god." Ben said after he had read through the whole thing.

Ben searched up Jeff the Killer on Google and found many pictures of either him, people dressing up as him, hand drawn pictures of him, or even a few pictures of his supposed "victims". Ben was not sure if this was real or not, or if some love deprived kid had gotten ahold of the story and was copying what he read. Ben was not sure, he collected his things, printed out the story, and left. He was met at the door by a gray haired man in a brown trench coat.

"Oh, hello." Ben said as the man stopped him.

"Hello. My name is Dr. Samuel Loomis. I was hoping to help you with something." The man said.

"And what would that be?" Ben asked, getting suspicious of this man.

"Sheriff Brackett has informed me that there is a psychopath visiting Haddonfield that is not Michael Myers. I wish to help you find him." Loomis replied.

Ben's' eyes widened as he figured out who this man was. Dr. Loomis was the psychiatrist who treated Michael Myers while he was incarcerated. He had also written a book on Myers and published it. Ben swallowed, unsure of what to say.

"Um, your help would be greatly appreciated. You seem to know a whole lot about how psychopaths work." Ben told him.

Loomis smiled and walked with Ben down the road. Ben filled Loomis in on what he had figured out. Loomis seemed to be sceptical about the whole thing.

"Even if this really is, erm, 'Jeff the Killer', what are we going to do to catch him? Jeff does not seem like the person to give in easily. He has no morals, he has no sense of what is right and what is wrong. He is a tank moving forward without a driver, not stopping for anything, only moving forward. What would you actually do if you caught him?." Loomis asked.

Ben was at a loss, he was sifting through Loomis's words, looking for a question or something. He had been so caught up in the whole tank analogy that he got off topic.

"Um, I guess we would execute him. Simple as that. Though there is one thing I want to know." Ben said.

"And what would that be?" Loomis asked, looking over at Ben, who was staring at the ground as they walked.

"How will Myers take this? You know, when he finds out Jeff is here." Ben asked.

Loomis pondered this as they crossed a street. Loomis had studied Michael for a very long time, but never thought about how Michael would react to other people just like him, unable to know the meaning of right and wrong, of good and evil.

"I do not know." Loomis said, saving the question in his mind for later.

"Maybe this will turn out to be good. Maybe they will meet and kill each other? It could work out, like a two birds one stone sort of thing." Ben suggested.

Loomis shook his head. He had seen Michael take many gunshot wounds and not falter, he had seem him get shot in the head and not die. Loomis had no idea what would happen. He just hoped there would not be any more innocent blood spilled….

Michael was in his house. He normally was there during the day. He never did much. He would normally stand in the corner of a room, occasionally moving to a different spot or walking to a specific room to piss into a hole in the floor. His mind was mulling things over. He remembered the kid in white. He remembered a smile. He also remembered the crack.

The kids head had made a muffled crack as it hit to hood of the car. Years ago, during the time when had first returned home, he would have laughed. There was, of course, no laughter now. The only emotions Michael knew was rage and blood lust. Nothing more, nothing less.

Michael walked to another part of the house, looking out a window at a police officer and a man in a brown trench coat outside…

"This is the place."

"I know, I have been here before, Ben."

"I know, it's just been so long.

Loomis and Ben looked up at the old house with a mixture of pain and anger. The house, like Michael himself, just refused to die. The thing looked like it could collapse at any second and really looked like the Earth was trying to swallow it. Loomis took one step forward but was stopped when Ben grabbed his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ben asked

"I was going to go inside and take a look around. I might as well." Loomis replied with a cool expression on his face.

"I don't really see the reason. Michael could be in there!" Ben said. "And what did you plan on doing when you got in there, reason with him? You said it yourself, Michael is not the sort of person who really listens." Ben told him.

Loomis took one last look at the house. In the window he saw a figure. He was not sure it was Michael, but who else would want to be in such a place. Loomis gave a short nod and took a step back. The two of them walked off, both of them wanting to put a good amount of distance between them and the house.

The bookstore keep was sitting around. The bookstore was not getting many customers today, his only real customer was some old guy in a trench coat. Then the bell above the door rang. The man sat up, wanting to make it seem like he was not lazy.

The customer was an average size, seemed really thin, and was wearing clothes that looked like they had seen better days. The man walked in with a hood up, making it impossible to see his face. He walked straight over to a shelf labeled "L". He grabbed a book and walked towards the counter. This guy knew what he wanted.

The man put the book on the counter. It was Dr. Samuel Loomis' book called "The Devil's Eyes". It was about Myers.

"Interesting choice." the man said.

The man did not reply. He fished out the money for the book, threw it on the counter and grabbed the book and walked out. The book keep was about to call the man back for his change, but he was already gone.


End file.
